


Have A Banana

by Potionsmstrs



Category: Cabin Pressure, Supernatural
Genre: April Fools' Day, Crossover, Gen, Reddit Prompt, fandomnatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1444621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potionsmstrs/pseuds/Potionsmstrs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>/r/Fandomnatural's April prompt: April Fool's Day. </p><p>Sam and Dean have a prank war.</p><p>(No knowledge of Cabin Pressure required, but it helps. See notes.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have A Banana

**Author's Note:**

> As mentioned, no knowledge of Cabin Pressure is necessary, but it definitely helps. If you haven't listened to Cabin Pressure, I suggest skipping the last section.

Sam watched from the dingy motel window, stifling a chuckle as Dean went to load their belongings into the Impala. Dean was looking at the ground as he walked, seemingly deep in thought about the next hunt; he didn’t notice anything different. Then he had the trunk open, obstructing the view. Sam, with eyes watering (he didn’t want to blink and miss his brother’s expression), burst into laughter when he finally heard the scream.

“Baby! What the hell did you do to Baby, Sam? Is this spray snow? Goddammit, don’t you ever touch Baby!”

* * *

 

Dean reclined on a double bed in yet another crummy motel, sipping on his beer, watching Dr. Sexy, and pretending to listen as Sam prattled on about potential cases.

Sam decided he found something promising in the newspaper and opened his laptop to start preliminary research. His brow furrowed at what he saw.

“Hey, Dean? Did you put a password on my laptop?”

Without sparing a glance at his little brother, Dean smiled into his beer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sammy. You know I’m no good with technology.”

Sam, confused, started typing things into the password box. Nothing worked. Not John Winchester, Mary, pie, Baby, or Impala. Not even SamWinchesterWearsMakeup. Exasperated, he threw his hands in the air.

“Come on, Dean. What did you change my password to?”

“Try BustyAsianBeauties. No spaces.”

“Not funny.”

“’Bout as funny as spraying snow on baby’s windows.”

* * *

 

Sam’s revenge had to wait until they got around to their next monthly mail pickup. Lucky for him, he thought, they had separate PO Boxes. The next morning, Sam was acting suspiciously happy when they headed out to the car. Dean narrowed his eyes at his little brother then practically ran to inspect Baby for signs of foul play. As soon as he got to the back window, Sam couldn’t hold in his laughter anymore.

“Blow up dolls? How many did you fit back there?! Sammy!”

* * *

 

They were at a coffee shop. Another case, another town. Dean kept hinting that Sam should get out the laptop and do some research. Rolling his eyes, Sam finally set it on the table and opened it. “About time,” mumbled Dean into his coffee cup.

“What the- Dean!”

Dean’s eyes crinkled around the edges. “Didn’t know I could Photoshop, did you?” He chuckled heartily as Sam slammed his laptop shut.

“Change it. Now.”

“What, you don’t want Mrs. Tran’s head on a Busty Asian Beauty’s centerfold body as your wallpaper? That’s racist, Sammy. Nobody likes a racist.”

* * *

 

Sam could barely contain his girlish giggle as he did it. It was a good thing Dean was a heavy sleeper. Nearly a full day passed before Dean noticed.

“Pink. Pink, Sammy! No wonder none of the chicks were responding to my charms! They think I’m like Eddie Izzard with my nails painted pink!”

* * *

 

This time it was Dean who could barely contain his manly chuckle. It was a good thing Sam was also a heavy sleeper. However, Sam noticed as soon as he woke up.

“Wake up, Dean. This isn’t funny anymore! I’m calling a truce!”

Dean cracked his eyes open and let the morning light reveal his masterpiece. Within seconds, his eyes were firmly shut due to a fit of raucous laughter complete with stomach clutching and rolling around on the bed.

Half of Sam’s fabulous hair had been buzzed off.

* * *

 

A truce was called that day. Dean thought it was a shame, seeing as the next day was April 1st. He then remembered that Sam didn’t see his Baby as a no-go when it came to pranks.

They went to bed that night in a cheap motel with a grandmotherly flowery theme.

They woke up somewhere else.

* * *

 

_::Bing-bong::_

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I am your captain, Captain Crieff, and I would like to welcome you aboard MJN Air. It looks like clear skies all the way to Fitton. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight. Thank you for choosing MJN Air.”

Dean was the first to bolt upright. “This is a bad dream. It has to be a bad dream. Sammy, tell me it’s a bad dream!” He frantically clawed at his brother’s arm on the adjoining armrest. An airplane seat armrest.

Sam sat up and froze. There were clowns. Everywhere. They were sitting in every other seat on the plane. “Dean… what is going on?”

Both brothers were hyperventilating.

A cheery looking man pushed a drinks trolley up the short aisle. “Good morning, sirs. Would you like something to drink? We have orange juice, apple juice, tea, coffee, and (he brought his voice down to a conspiratorial whisper) mum says I’m not to offer, but we also have a bottle of Talisker whiskey. Only, Mr. Birling didn’t come ‘round this year, but mum already ordered it so she wouldn’t be caught short like last year, and-“

Dean had mustered enough courage to talk again. “Whoa there, dude. Back up. Am I dreaming?”

The steward smiled. “Why, I don’t believe so, sir. It would be brilliant, though, if we all shared the same dream. I had a dream once, where Skip and Douglas were detec-“

Dean’s eye twitched. “What the hell am I- _we_ doing, on a freaking airplane?”

The steward blinked a few times before answering. “Flying, sir.”

“Arthur! These nice, erm, entertainers, are all waiting on their seltzer waters!” An older woman with a no-nonsense air about her approached the men. “Whatsoever is the hold up?”

Sam still seemed to be frozen in fear. Dean figured his fear of clowns might actually be worse than his own fear of flying.

“Uh, excuse me, ma’am,” Dean choked out. “How did we get on this plane?”

Before she could reply, the intercom crackled to life.

_::Bing-bong::_

“This is Captain Crieff speaking with an urgent message for the cabin crew. Fizz. Thank you; that will be all.”

Arthur grinned and shouted, “Buzz!”

The clowns turned toward the galley as one and proceeded to chant, “Have a bah-nah-naaaaah!”

Sam fainted. The door opened and a man with blue eyes and mask-like smile stepped through. Dean recognized it as an _I-am-trying-to-make-my-face-look-comforting-yet-seem-to-be-failing-miserably_ grin. The steam that escaped his ears could have powered an entire steampunk circus.

“April Fools!” shouted Castiel.

* * *

 

_(Flight deck door opens)_

Arthur: Heya, Skip? I thought you might like to know…

Douglas: Ooh, do let me guess. The two normal, if not too terribly tall gentlemen amongst the overwhelming sea of colorfully painted performers have suddenly vanished.

Martin: Don’t be ridiculous, Douglas. How on earth could they-

Douglas: Ah, but we aren’t on Earth. More like hovering above it.

Arthur: That was brilliant, Douglas! How did you know they disappeared?

Martin: Arthur, stop talking nonsense. There is no way-

Douglas: _(clears throat)_ Let’s just say an angel whispered a bit of a ‘heads up’, if you will, before this morning’s brief.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you a thousand fold to SecretFanGirl for being my beta! This story is coherent because of her.


End file.
